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The Price of Failure
With the bulk of the Imperial fleet redeployed to hold Ketterslea under the mighty auspices of the HIMS Predator, the demands on the Nemesis which remains in orbit above Caspar have been reduced and in the space of a few short weeks, the vessel has undergone a complete change in its command staff. Commander Calyx Drogan, Executive Officer had been transferred to Carida to undertake Stormtrooper officer training, in the wake of his successful seizure of the Rebel ambassador. Captain Illotha Licenti departed shortly thereafter, reassigned to other duties and leaving command of the flagship to her junior officers. Not two days after Lord Aldus Thel had departed the vessel to commence his tour of the Caspian worlds, a rebel strike force had successfully boarded and extracted Ambrosia Delgard, inflicting substantial damage to the Nemesis' primary launch bay and waste systems. Shortly after that, the much anticipated first blood of the campaign had been drawn far from its expected site at Kett. In the heart of Caspia itself, a vicious battle fought in the asteroid belt saw Lieutenant Commander Varian rally the available light cruisers remaining in Caspia and lead them to the relief of the embattled Lancers under Lieutenant Commander Sunrider. When orders came down to hold the line at all costs, Varian had obeyed and even as his ships burned around around him, he would not be routed. In the aftermath, he has been summoned to the Nemesis by orders bearing the Duke of Selene's personal seal, and now the future Emperor of the galaxy looms above Lieutenant Commander Roosh, who had countermanded Varian's order to withdraw. His feet are unsure of themselves, slowly edging back from the advance of Lord Thel across the command dais. "The battle was a disaster." Aldus menaces, voice dripping with cold fury. "Your myopic attempt to aggrandise yourself has come at my expense, Commander." Commander Varian enters the bridge from the command and control suite. His right arm is cradled in a sling. His face is covered in dark bruises that mar his otherwise light complexion. He approaches the command dais but stays a respectful distance back while the Duke is venting his rage on the tactical officer who order the squadron under Varian's command to hold the belt, they had held but at a high cost. His own ship badly mauled towards the end of the battle. Heads are kept down. Way, way down. Nobody in the station pits dares lift their gaze beyond the command gantry to where the Duke continues. "To add insult to injury you permitted rebels to board my ship, destroy my hangar bay and escape with my prisoner..." a gloved hand tightens, the leather stretching over knuckles. "Commander Varian." He addresses the arriving officer, burning gaze never leaving Roosh's terrified eyes. "At point was the battle of the belt won? When did you order a withdrawal of forces?" Tychus feels a sinking feeling in his stomach when he is addressed directly, but responds with the grace taught in a lifetime of service from the Corellian military caste, his heels coming together smartly and his head bowing respectfully, "My original orders were to rescue the Lancer squadron deployed under Commander Sunrider, my lord. Once the remaining frigates were free, I executed a fighting withdrawal, back to our lines." Thel still does not turn to face the officer, eyes continuing to bore a hole through the trembling officer's skull. "And why did you do that, Commander? What insight did you possess even as your command burned around you that this fool could not muster from the safety of this bridge?" The noose is readied. Anyone can see it, but the duty of tying the slip knot is thrust upon Tychus. Varian's expression hardens as he recalls the casualties taken in the asteroid belt. "It is a waste of resources to trade frigates for cruisers, when they will be needed later to fight Republic cruisers. We traded a tactical victory for strategic weakness." He would push Commander Roosh out of the airlock himself, if given the choice. "You have failed me for the last time, Commander..." Thel renders judgment upon the visibly quaking Roosh, his voice cold as the void. He turns sharply, cloak flying outward as it catches the moving air and falls in about him like a shadow gathering in his wake. With pounding footsteps he approaches the Corellian officer, unfastening a holster at his belt - soft black leather embossed by fine detailing and trimmed in brightly polished silver. An exquisitely crafted blaster drawn forth and presented by the barrel to Varian. "Demonstrate the price of failure." Thel commands, that very choice placed in reach. "Rid the Empire of this self-serving imbecile." Tychus Varian reaches out with his left hand, wrapping leather clad fingers around the grip of the pistol feeling it's weight and flicking the safety off. He turns his body towards Commander Roosh and silently raises the weapon, "This is for the crews of Relentless Squadron who you murdered!" There is a hint of rage in his normally stoic tone. He squeezes the trigger several times, living up to his ship's name. The blaster's report is rather heavier than its design might suggest. A weighty initial rush of gas like thunder giving way to a hollow reverberation that echoes around the bridge with each shot. Charged bolts explode in a shower of sparks and smoke on impact, the doomed officer falling to the deck stone dead and the odour of burning flesh wafting up from his corpse. "A position has just become available, Lieutenant Commander." Aldus' tone cold and hand extended to receive his sidearm. "Congratulations on your new assignment. Your first duty is to repair the damage done to my ship. I have sent for a worthy replacement to Captain Licenti. He will arrive shortly, see to it that this vessel is ready to receive him. You have the conn." Varian flicks the safety back on the blaster, spinning it in his hand to present the grip towards the Duke. He bows his head at the transfer, "As you wish, my lord. I will have the ship ready for the new Captain." He wastes little time, making his way to the command console, turning his attention to an Ensign. "Have each section head report in, I want repair crews in the hangar immediately." He motions with his left hand to the heap of a corpse laying on the deck, "Have this trash disposed of, ensign." Blaster returned to its holster, Aldus turns to cast his eye across the viewport - the blue-green orb of Caspar stationary beneath them. "Recall the fleet from Ketterslea." he commands of the new acting-CO of the Nemesis. "The Republic licks its wounds." Thel further advises, turning back toward the communications annex. "Kichnar's orbital stations will make quite the palliative. They must not retain them. Meet with the general staff, when the new captain arrives I expect a plan of attack ready for his analysis." Lt. Commander Varian follows the Duke to the viewport, looking out over Caspar, "Of Course, my lord. The ship will be combat effective by the time the new Captain arrives." He pulls a small command data pad from his belt, grasping it in his right hand, still restrained by the sling, his left hand moves over the touch screen, "The flight deck should be open for transport shuttles within the hour and fully operational with five."